Yoga Troubles
by nomdeplume1313
Summary: Yoga has taken hold in the Winchester household, except for Dean, who sees it as more of a problem than a fun-time hobby. This is just generally fluff.


_A/N: This is from the Home in Motion universe. Reading isn't necessary, as few details from the story will carry over here. What you need to know is that Sam has a girlfriend named Emma and Cas and Dean have an established relationship and a toddler they adopted named Johnny._

**Yoga Troubles**

_"Surely if God had meant us to do yoga, he would have put our heads behind our knees." Rod Stewart_

The Winchester house had been taken over by yoga. Dean wasn't surprised to find out Emma practiced yoga. Stumbling in on her bent over a purple mat doing some kind of downward dog thing in Sam's bedroom probably wasn't the most embarrassing moment they would ever have. He wasn't shocked to find a blue mat rolled up in Sam's room because Sam was so totally whipped. It was inevitable that one day Johnny would start imitating him; the little boy already looked up to him. Dean hadn't really expected this new hobby to become a sort of family thing, with Cas finding new ways to twist himself up like a pretzel, to bend and flex in ways he hadn't before.

It wasn't exactly a secret he had a thing for bendy people.

As an angel, Cas wasn't really bound to the limits of normal people. The only reason he didn't fold himself in half during these family yoga sessions, Dean suspected, was because Johnny was watching closely and an excellent copycat. Dean was aware of Cas's flexibility, but this new yoga kick put it into startling focus, at times when the whole damned family was around. Cas and Sam moved the furniture, to accommodate their matching blue mats while Johnny was happy just to use the floor. Hell, when Bobby wasn't with Jody, he used the relaxing sound of the video to practice Chai Tea, or Tai Chi... whatever it was.

Dean wasn't all that bendy, himself, and in a rare moment alone, save for Johnny, he'd tried the beginner video. He'd thought that maybe if he was focusing on not faceplanting onto the floor or bending in just the same way as the woman in the video, he could avoid the uncomfortableness the yoga sessions usually brought for him. He'd barely gotten into the video before he heard something pop in his back. He'd been forced to crawl around on the floor as he tried to hide the evidence of what he'd been doing. He was just grateful that all Johnny could do to rat him out was tell Cas "Dada boo boo." Their secret yoga session stayed that way.

Dean bit his tongue up until early December, and he thought he was doing a very good job of keeping the whole family from realizing how much he just wanted to jump his partner every time he saw him unroll the mat. (He didn't even need to see him bending over anymore, just had to know it was going to happen like Pavlov's drooling dogs.)

Today, he wasn't so lucky. For the last few hours, he had been outside, tinkering with an old Chevy truck one of his customers had brought him earlier in the week. The problems were minor, but the owner was getting on in years and just couldn't do them himself anymore. It was a shame, Dean thought as he replaced the alternator belt, because the engine looked to be original, but it was in pristine condition for being nearly as old as Sam.

When the belt finally snapped into place and he was able to tighten the pulleys keeping it there, he thought he deserved a break, not only from the work or tugging at the loop of rubber, but from the cold. The garage was fully enclosed now, and there was some heat getting to it, but it still wasn't the warmest place to work for hours at a time in the early part of December in South Dakota. It was a shame Bobby didn't live in a nice, warm place with palm trees, beaches and very little snow. Or, at the very least, a place where cold weather advisories didn't mean frostbite if someone was outside for more than a few minutes.

He was almost to the refrigerator for a drink when he heard the all-too familiar new age craptastic music and the oh-so-soothing voice of the thirty-something yoga instructor. "Breathe out and hold..."

Dean knew better. He really did. He knew he shouldn't look up, but he did anyway. It was like knowing you're too full for pie and another piece will make you sick, but you'd probably still eat it because it was pie. And it didn't matter he'd be hard enough to jackhammer concrete with no real outlet because he'd at least get the view.

Cas was bent in freaking half, his ass up in the air and head practically on the mat below. At that moment, he happened to look up and meet Dean's eyes. "Hello, Dean," he said.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," the hunter said as he went back into the cool garage. That would have to work in the place of a cold shower.


End file.
